[The Armchair]

Chapter One: Fire, Voices, and Kindergarten

You are in a large room -- a gymnasium, perhaps, but there are no basketball hoops, no bleachers, no scoreboard; in fact, the room is entirely empty.

Oh, and the walls are actually not walls, but huge towers of fire. There seems to be no way out, and walking through the fire walls doesn't seem like a good idea.

Before you can figure out exactly how you got to where you are, or why you are there, or why you are still reading this post, a loud voice booms over an invisible PA system. In its best Mortal Kombat tone, the voice simply exclaims "FIGHT!"

You have nothing to fight, and seem disappointed.

Your disappointment is brief.

Behind you appear twenty-seven kindergartners. They are playing patty-cake, red rover, and duck-duck-goose. They are all wearing Yankees jerseys, except for one who is wearing a Tampa Bay Devil Rays jersey. That one is winning a disproportional number of games, not that you think it matters.

Suddenly, a child playing Red Rover slips and falls into the fiery wall -- and bounces off, unscathed. She then goes back to playing. (Naturally, having failed to break through the opposing team's chain, she now is part of that team, but that is neither here nor there.)

You stand, staring at the twenty-seven children, partially wondering where they came from, partially wondering where you came from, partially wondering why you are wondering where they came from instead of focusing more on where you came from, and entirely ignoring the fact that some voice from up on high just commanded someone, potentially you, to fight. Thankfully (perhaps), the voice reminds you:

FIGHT!